us to her in all the world."

"A token?"

"A little white feather," said Mrs. Adair, "all soiled and speckled with
dust. Can you read the riddle of that feather?"

"Not yet," Durrance replied. He walked once or twice along the terrace
and back, lost in thought. Then he went into the house and fetched his
cap from the hall. He came back to Mrs. Adair.

"It was kind of you to tell me this," he said. "I want you to add to
your kindness. When I was in the drawing-room alone and you came to the
window, how much did you hear? What were the first words?"

Mrs. Adair's answer relieved him of a fear. Ethne had heard nothing
whatever of his confession.

"Yes," he said, "she moved to the window to read a letter by the
moonlight. She must have escaped from the room the moment she had read
it. Consequently she did not hear that I had no longer any hope of
recovering my sight, and that I merely used the pretence of a hope in
order to delay our marriage. I am glad of that, very glad." He shook
hands with Mrs. Adair, and said good-night. "You see," he added
absently, "if I hear that Harry Feversham is in Omdurman, something
might perhaps be done--from Suakin or Assouan, something might be done.
Which way did Ethne go?"

"Over to the water."

"She had her dog with her, I hope."

"The dog followed her," said Mrs. Adair.

"I am glad," said Durrance. He knew quite well what comfort the dog
would be to Ethne in this bad hour, and perhaps he rather envied the
dog. Mrs. Adair wondered that at a moment of such distress to him he
could still spare a thought for so small an alleviation of Ethne's
trouble. She watched him cross the garden to the stile in the hedge. He
walked steadily forward upon the path like a man who sees. There was
nothing in his gait or bearing to reveal that the one thing left to him
had that evening been taken away.

CHAPTER XX

WEST AND EAST

Durrance found his body-servant waiting up for him when he had come
across the fields to his own house of "Guessens."

"You can turn the lights out and go to bed," said Durrance, and he
walked through the hall into his study. The name hardly described the
room, for it had always been more of a gun-room than a study.

He sat for some while in his chair and then began to walk gently about
the room in the dark. There were many cups and goblets scattered about
the room, which Durrance had won in his past days. He knew them each one
by their shape and position,